


look, it's smut what do you want me to say, i've got no defense here. let me walk into the sea

by erintoknow



Series: Fallen Hero Sidestep AU Fanfics [2]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén
Genre: Bondage, F/F, F/M, Fingering, Kissing, Lesbian, Lesbian Sex, Nonbinary Character, POV Female Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Transgender, don't look mom, extra canonical, pairing up people's ocs and mashing them together like barbie dolls, rope, the works
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-07-19 10:27:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erintoknow/pseuds/erintoknow
Summary: going to archive any smutty blurbs to this filelast updated 9/27/19 with 1 blurb





	1. smoke and silver (Ariadne/Logan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fingers like spider kisses
> 
> her voice like smoke and silver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to practice sex writing, might as well back it up here too. no promises on quality.  
> THANKS [KINPIKA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika) FOR LETTING ME BORROW LOGAN AGAIN

her hand runs over your leg, ghosting your skin. you press against her tighter, tucking your head under her chin. feel / hear her heartbeat. just raw physical presence alone is still pushing things, the heat from another body, the way skin flexes and shifts in response to movement, pressure. the way her breasts press against you, feel extremely aware of how your breasts touch her. two bodies mixed up into each other, just being

it's not a fight, there's no blood, no bruises, no one's life is on the line. just you and her and frankly, nicer bedsheets then you've ever slept on. are these microfiber? they're so soft and– oh that's her hand on your backside.

———

light this time, but not for you, safer were the dark wraps in. not unlike the ropes holding your thigh to your leg. an assurance to just be.

to just be the lightning on your skin, running up your sides kneading your breasts. 

“you’re so quiet,” she says.

“nnng” you protest. 

and she laughs and cups your chin, thumb across your lips, and you wish she’d just do it already because isn’t that the point or something? but she’s taking her damn time touching touching touching

trailing fingers like spider kisses almost ticklish but even bound letting go is hard to do. it’s not a contest but you’re totally winning, right?

winning feels like the flexing focus of fractal patterns not seen or felt but _known_ , the pinch of nails, running down, down, then around, the current of heat and oil and cool air. “you ready, Adelle?”

huff don’t say anything, don’t _admit_ to anything

she pulls back, “wrong answer,”

the moment stretches. a rest note that’s anything but and you snap first, “fine, yes, ready…!”

she leans back in, voice smooth like smoke and silver, “say _please_ ”

her breath on you is enough to make you squirm. “fine… p-please?”

a single fingernail traces the areola of your breast, pushing in. her voice is light, enjoying herself a little too much. “please what?” 

your reply this time is immediate. “oh fuck you” you hiss.

a hand lightly taps your check and she tsks. “watch your fucking language.” hands drag down you. again. scratching skin–

and god, just get it over with already woman. “just. fucking. do. it. _please_. ” are you whining? no. this is an entirely reasonable response to the situation.

she laughs and you can feel her, or rather the strap-on, or her strap-on, or who cares– “okay then,” she pushes in slow and smooth and it’s just as well you can’t see her or down there as you’d just die on the spot, a pillar of salt.

you bite your lip, you won’t give her the satisfaction, no way, uh-uh. She holds on to your raised knee for balance as she works her way in and slides back out–almost, then again, getting a sense for the pacing, as she has her way. her free hand traces circles between your legs, always careful to avoid where you asked and– fuck, she pushes *hard* bouncing you on the bed and a gasp escapes your lips despite your efforts.

she leans in, fractals of smoke curling into smiles in mind, “looks like i win the bet.” goddamnit, she’ll never let you live this down.


	2. com'on flyboy, chop chop (Ariadne/Herald CURSED)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally saved under the file name 'cursed danny bj'  
> safe to say i've banished this to the non-canon zone, but i might as well put it up SOMEWHERE

“God, I can’t fucking stand this anymore.” Ariadne pulls at her face. This practice was going to be excoriating to get through if she didn’t do something. “Herald get the fuck down here.”

Danny glances down, nervous. “Is… Is everything okay?” He asks as he floats down towards Ariadne.

She takes a deep breath and hisses the air out between her teeth. “No. No it isn’t. Your mental shield technique blows.” She gives him a pointed look over her sunglasses. “Pun-fucking-intended.”

Danny goes beat red. “W-what? I swear I got the message you weren’t interested. It’s just– I uh– I mean–“ He takes a step back as Ariadne advances on him, whipping off the sunglasses and hooking them on a jean pocket. Before he can take off and get back out of reach, she grabs him by the collar of his tracksuit and pulls him in for a kiss.

Huh. Danny thinks. That’s not where he expected this to go.

It’s rough and amateurish and they hit each other’s noses as they disengage. Ariadne grimaces, her face red. “I swear the fucking Pope in Rome could hear you thinking.” She wipes her mouth off with the back of her hand, and narrows her eyes at him. “Pull down your pants before I change my goddamn mind.”

He stares at her. Is he dreaming? Did he get knocked out during training again?

Ariadne claps her hands. “Com’on flyboy! Chop chop!”

Dream it is then.

He shakily grabs at the band of his pants and pulls them down, only to then remember he needs to undue the fly. He gets there in the end though, and now he’s standing on the roof of a high-rise building with his pants around his ankles.

Ariadne’s already undone her broach and dropped her shawl to the floor next to them. She makes a ‘get on with it’ gesture with her hand. “Don’t just stand there, you’re not done yet.” Danny opens his mouth to say something and Ariadne holds up a finger to quiet him. “Shut up.”

In silence Danny pulls down his boxers. He’s had some pretty wild dreams in his life, but this is a new one alright. Ariadne steps toward him again, an unimpressed frown on her face. Danny hesitates, then reaches for her only to get his hand slapped out. “Don’t touch me.” She says it a weight of command behind it and Danny lets his arm drop limp to his side.

“I just want to make one thing clear.” Ariadne leans in, whispering into Danny’s ear as a hand wanders down his chest. “I like _women_.”

Before Danny can have a chance to process that, there’s a hand around him, tugging it to attention. He winces, “You gotta– ow– uh, use lube?”

“What?” Ariadne blinks, authority vanishing for a moment. “Oh. I– I knew that.” She hisses, letting go of him and spits into her hand. She steels her expression again and grabs his dick, working it with her hand.

It doesn’t take long before Danny starts to firm up under her fingers. “Ari… why are–?”

“I said shut up!” She doesn’t look him in the face as her face burns red to her ears. “Practically broadcasting that shit, driving me crazy… goddamnit.” She sinks to her knees in front of him, heart pounding.

When it seems like she’s just going to kneel there staring at his crotch, Danny tries to move a hand to help things along, and she slaps it away. “I’ve– I’ve fucking got this flyboy.” She takes a breath trying to steady her nerves, and then takes him into her mouth, holding it in one hand and bracing herself on Danny’s leg with the other. Shallow at first; practically kissing the tip.

Danny bites his lip as she takes him in deeper, running her lips back and forth over him, tonguing the underside. “Ariadne…”

“Noh ‘alkhing!” The nails dig into his leg to underline the point. He want to reach out, touch her face, run a hand through her hair, _something_ , but it’s like something’s nailed him to the floor.

Ariadne feels Danny’s leg tense under her hand, and the slight bucking of his hips against her mouth and takes that as her cue to pull him out. She resumes jerking him off with her hand as she sits back on her legs, biting at the fingers on her free hand.

There’s a small satisfaction to be had in hearing Danny trying-and failing- to not audibly moan. When he comes, it’s by surprise and she nearly lets go of him before tightening her grip to make sure he stays pointed at the ground and not at her.

Danny looks do at her in dazed confusion. “What… what was that all about…?”

Ariadne glares up at him. “Come to practice horny again and I will fucking bite you, swear to God.”


	3. empty threat (Ariadne/Logan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> borrowing [kinpika's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika) logan again

There’s a kind of meditative calm in just having to stand there. Breath in, breath out. Don’t have to analyze, or act, or perform, just be a body in space.

A body in space in slightly too-cold conditioned air.

She runs a hand over the back of your shoulders, neck, raising goose-bumps along exposed skin, your shoulders, down your arms.

Arms that she gently guides behind your back before winding red rope against your skin, silent in her own concentration, for even spacing, for appropriate tightness; just enough to hug your chest. Woven around your breasts in diamond patterns. Something she spins up your arms, fueled by your encouraging smiles egging her on.

Lean back into her, the press of her breasts against your back, arms, your fingers on fleetingly touch her skin before she rights you again.

It earns you a light slap on butt with some chiding words for not standing still. An empty threat to walk away, as if she could stand to leave this half-finished any more then you could.

Your criss-crossed in red threads against orange lines across your sun-starved skin. She paces around you, assessing her handiwork, tugging this way and that.

A finger traces a line across your back, from one shoulder to the next. “What’re all these freckles doing hiding down here?” Her voice is light, teasing.

“I don’t control them,” you say.

She laughs, “You don’t control much of anything right now.”

You answer that the only way you can think of which is to wait until she’s behind you again and let yourself fall backwards to the bed. Bring her down with you with as she shouts in surprise. You laugh as she rolls you off her, grumbling.

You keep laughing as she crawls on top of you, pinning you into the sheets, dragging her nails up your side.

You stop laughing when she kisses your shoulder, makes a line up your neck and bites your earlobe, teasing incoherent noises out your throat. “That’s more like it,” she whispers into your ear.

She shifts position, straddling you with a leg on either side, knees pressing against your hips. She leans forward again, reaching for the nightstand, grumbling under her breath as she tries to find something.

“Sho-shoulda’ve cleaned your room,” you can’t resist the jab, the smack on your back is a small price to pay.


	4. You're very distracting (Ariadne/Anita)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anita is [Lori's gay disaster child](https://disastersteps.tumblr.com)

“Neets…?”

They pulls back from you, blushing to their ears as they pull their hair back out of their face. “Ah– um– sorry.”

You force yourself to grab their hand. “S–stop. You’re– you’re making me nervous.”

They shifts on the couch, not looking at you. “Won’t, uh, won’t happen again.”

“Um.” You bite your lip.

“Hahaha, wow, look– look at the time, Ari, I should… go.” Anita moves to get up.

You focus on the floor as you speak. “You know I– I, uh, can hear what you’re thinking right.”

The hand in yours goes rigid. “Uh–” Is it her hand that’s sweaty or yours? Both?

“It’s um…” Your heart is pounding like crazy. “It’d be, uh– rude to leave now.”

You can feel a burst of complicated emotions radiate out of Anita faster than you can get a read. They sit back down on the couch. “Do, uh, do you…?”

You glance at them. “D-do you… wait.” You giggle, awkward. “W-what am I saying, Fuck.” Of course they do, it’s hard not to hear it in your head. You lower voice. “You’re uh– you’re _very distracting right– right now_.”

They put a hand on your shoulder, and then you find yourself sliding backwards on the couch as they clamber onto you. It starts with a brush against your chest, and you reach up to meet their kiss, pulling them down into a hug. You run your hands under their shirt – across their back. Goosebumps running up your arms as they push your own shirt up, fingers tracing circles across your stomach.

When it seems like their fingers about to wonder further down you freeze up. “W-wait.” You squeak out.

They freeze too, eyes wide, staring into yours. “W-what? Oh. Oh, sorry!”

You shake your head. “It– you’re f-fine. Just–” You take their hand and move it up to your chest. You let your other hand wander further down. “Y–you?”

They shake their head. “G–go?”

You blink. “Go?”

She has to squeak the word out. “Ahead?”

You manage a smile.

It’s.. It’s a little hard to undo a button and zipper in one hand while someone is laying over you kissing your neck and squeezing your breasts, but eventually you manage and you let your hand run over the fabric of their underwear. “W-wow Neets, you’re uh–”

“Ari…” They whine, face bright red to their ears.

You laugh. “S-sorry.”


	5. Okay (Ariadne/Julia Ortega)

She’s got you. She’s got you in the way her hand tangles through your hair, pulling your head back. She drags the nails of her free hand down your shoulder, not hard enough to scratch but still, _something_. You’ve completely lost control of the situation but it’s okay. It’s okay. “W-wait–” you gasp.

She stops immediately, loosens her grip. “You alright, Ari?”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, breathe out, back in. “Y-yeah.” Still in control even when you’re out of it. It’s okay. “Just– yeah.”

As soon as you say that, the hand in your hair retighten’s its grip. “Glad to hear it,” she purrs in your ear. She bites your neck, catching your breath in your throat. Your body’s already quivering and she hasn’t even fucked you yet. You can feel the strap-on bounce against your thigh. God, you’re a mess.

A mess who has to brace her arms against the wall as she takes mercy on you. Pushes in slow, and long until her hips touch your skin, and _fuck_ it always feels like so much. There’s a certain bonus satisfaction as she pulls out and then thrusts back in, pushing you against the wall (Sorry neighbors! [oh god don’t think about that]). You were never meant for something like _this_ but that little lizard brain in the back of skull knows just what to. One big middle finger to the people that created you. _Fuck._

“Not so– shy– now– huh–?”

“Mhm–” you manage to say.

She holds your arm by the shoulder with her free hand and pulls you back away from the wall and you can feel it in the weakness in your legs before the feeling washes over you and fall backwards against her. She laughs, holding you up. “Maybe you shouldn’t stand right now.”

You whine, “But–”

She bites your ear, “I didn’t say we were _done_ now did I?”

She pulls out of you and you let her turn you around. She hardly needs to apply any pressure to get you to sink to your knees and the two of you, with shaky hands unbuckle strap and toss it aside.

“Y–y–your turn, Sparkles” you manage to get out between kissing her thighs.

She holds your head in one hand, “Damn right–”

It takes some exploratory kisses before you zero in on her clit and then it becomes an experiment in trial and error. Watching the reaction in how her body tenses in reaction, the strength of her grip of her hand in your hair. And then you know things are going well when she bucks her hips against your face, her breath coming quicker in little gasps of air.

When she finally lets go, she slides down, back against the wall. When the two of you are eye-level again you lean in over her knees to give her a peck on the nose. “Y-you okay?”

She nods, face red. “You…?”

You smile is shaky but genuine. What the two of you just did hasn’t quite sunk in as real yet. “I– I’m okay.”


	6. sore (Ariadne/Julia Ortega)

Her hands run up your sides, trails of goosebumps in the wake. Fingers brushing over cupping– You groan, wince. “Fuck, ow.”

She lets up, “You okay?”

Her hands are still, still touching. Your heartbeat in your ears “Just. Just sore.”

“Oh? I can’t imagine why.” Her smile tugs to one side, sneaking out from under that poker-face.

“Shut up.” Squint at her, heat in your face as you hiss past gritted teeth. That gets a laugh from her, light. An echo of something younger, pulling a different, softer ache out from under your chest. “I love you,” you amend, “but– but shut up.”


	7. We're gonna need more ice cream for this (Ariadne/Anita)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anita belongs to [lori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaydorkouswriter/pseuds/gaydorkouswriter)  
> Writing prompt:  
> Character: Anita  
> Word: Smooching

You’re rounding the turn in the lot when Anita shoots past you, hunched down, arms tucked in, skating by under the swing of your arms. “What-hey!! Get back here!” You surprise melts to laughter as you kick off harder to catch up with them. They’ve been improving fast. Must be practicing on their own outside of your weekly hangouts.

“It’s–” they have to pause for breath between each word. “–my turn, for, ice cream!”

You shake your head as you try to catch up. “Don’t count on it, Neets!”

When they lose balance, you can see it happen before it does. The way their one leg wobbles just a little to far to the right, catches a pit in the asphalt, and suddenly all that momentum is translated ninety degrees. There’s time for a single exclamation of ‘Fuck!’ your’s or theirs or both? Doesn’t matter.

You grab at their arm as it flails backward, twist your feet into a stop pull backward. For a brief moment the two of you of perfectly balanced in a series of acute triangles to the ground. Then either gravity reasserts itself or your grip, your weight, is a little too strong and now you’re falling backwards, pulling Anita down with you. Your helmet protects your head thank god, but you manage to hit the ground twice. Once on your own effort, the second as Anita collapses on your chest.

The two of you lay there in dazed silence, catching your breaths, then, “Are… are you okay?” Their voice is strained.

“I–I– yeah…? Are you?” Why did their head have to land _right there_ ow.

“Your… uh.. arm…?”

You feel their fingers gingerly touch you arm and you realize you’ve grabbed something you really shouldn’t have, and immediately let go, pull back, half let / half push Anita off you. “Oh, god, s-s-sorry!”

Anita rolls onto their stomach, sprawled out on the ground next to you. “It’s… it’s okay. Thanks?” Red blooms across their face. “Uh, I mean for grabbing!” The blush intensifies. “I MEAN KEEPING ME FROM FALLING FUCK”

You can feel a sympathetic heat on your own face. “N-n-no sweat???” If you look away now you’re just going to make this even more awkward. You try to turn your head and wince. “I think maybe I pulled something.”

That gets Anita to scramble up, sit leaning over you. “What? Where? Are you okay??”

You shift a hand to touch the back of your neck. “Shoulders? Neck? Bodies are weird.” The look of alarm on Anita’s face, eyebrows stitched together, is a little much so you add, “It’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah…? Um.” You bite your lip, raise a hand towards them. “C-can you help me up though?”

“Of course, yeah!” They grab your hand, pulls you up and you wince. A little too fast, and woah–

“Um.” You’re a little too close to face now. “Hi?”

“H-hi?” Anita’s eyes search your face, as if they hadn’t thought this far ahead.

“Uh…” Are they… do they… ? “I think…”

“Y-yeah?”

“We might need something more than ice cream.” You whisper.

You’re _really_ close to their face now.

“L-like what?” They tilt their head ever so slightly. Are they aware they’re doing that?

“G-g-guess.”


	8. weird flex, but okay (Ariadne / Julia Ortega)

Stretch out your arms, up and over your head, side to side. It’s been a while since you’ve sparred with Julia. Sparred in a friendly context, anyway. But that was in the past and now you’re girlfriends and everything is totally fine forever. Absolutely no need to unpack that and–

“Say… how flexible are you?” Julia’s eyes run up and down your body.

You take a step back, heat in your face. “I… what?” Rally, “More flexible than you, old woman.”

There’s a shine in her eyes as she smiles. “Really now?” Her voice drops, “You sure about that?”

* * *

“Well, I have to admit it. You were right, Ari.” She looks down at you, smug as can be. Her name escaping your lips in a breathy protest as she pushes into you again. “You _are_ more flexible.”


	9. can't help it (Anita/Ariadne)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anita is [Lori's gay disaster child](https://disastersteps.tumblr.com)
> 
> prompt was anita + soft/nervous touch

“Oh, hold on, don’t get up yet.” Ariadne puts out a hand to keep Anita from rising as she shuffles closer. “Look, you gotta…” She tugs on the laces of Anita’s skates, one, twice, three times, “you gotta make sure your skates aren’t coming off.” Flash of smile up at them, “Trust me on that one.” She laughs.

Anita huffs, puffing out their cheeks, falling back on indignation to take refuge from being flustered. “I know how to do it, Ari!” Crosses their arms. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

Ariadne laughs, a tinge of red in her face as she brushes her hair back and pulls away. “Sorry, sorry, I– I– I just worry. Is all.” She gives a helpless shrug, palms up. “Skating’s fun, but…” Ariadne’s gaze drifts towards the massive bruise she knowns is on Anita’s knee under the leggings. “How’s the knee?”

They drum their fingers against the bench on either side, avoiding Ariadne’s face. “It’s, it’s fine, you know? Sore, I guess? But fine!”

Ariadne gives them a skeptical look and launches into a talk about different care strategies. Most of it goes over Anita’s head, as they try not to think about how Ariadne is kneeling before them, on the floor. About Ariadne’s hand rubbing their knee. About what it would be like if Ariadne wasn’t just in front of their legs but _between_ them and–

She stops talking and stares at Anita. Her face a shade of red to match their’s. Finally she coughs and manages to say, “Y–you really can’t help yourself huh.”

Anita bites their lip and shakes their head side to side.


	10. the job (Logan/Ariadne)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> borrowing [kinpika's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika) logan again
> 
> prompt was: Logan | brings ari ‘gadgets’ to fix

The bell ring as the door kicks open, pulling your attention from the motherboard you’d been soldering. “Yo, Ariadne!”Logan holds a cardboard box in her hands which she unceremoniously drops on the counter. “Got some work for your cover business.”

Switch off the torch, put it down on the table and pull up the safety goggles. “Logan?”

She leans forward towards you, hands on her hips. “Uh yeah? You said you do repairs and shit?”

You tilt your head, searching Logan’s face for the trick. “…yeah? But like, don’t you take care of your own stuff?”

Logan clicks her tongue. “Yeah, I _could_ do that. Oooooor, I can just throw them at you and your little cover gig.” She taps her foot, “Well, what about it, lapochka?”

You sigh and get up from the desk. Well, she _seems_ sincere enough, which means she’s definitely plotting something. “Alright, Logan, what have you got in the box that needs fixing?”

“Oh a few odds and ends, nothing particularly difficult.” She whistles innocently, hands behind her back.

You open the box and immediately step back in case something jumps out at you. When nothing does you steel yourself again and look inside. “Logan.” You look up at her, and are greeted with a huge shit-eating grin.

“So, for the big vibe, I’m pretty sure the motor is just completely burned on that fucker. You’ll probably need to get a new one, but if you can fix it then hey, more power to you.”

You press your lips together in a tight line. “Mmhmm.”

“And the dildos of course, are for help with testing things out afterwards.”

You cough, suddenly feeling very warm. “Is… is that so?”

Logan falters a bit, seeing your reaction. “Well, I mean, we don’t have to…?”

“And the… the rope?” You whisper.

“Well, I know you like to relax with a good yarn.”

You cover your face in your hands, a dozen different thoughts battling it out in your head. After a minute you take a breath. “I’ll take the job,” you squeak out.


	11. seduced (Ariadne/Julia Ortega)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for allusions to unspecified trauma? dysphoria?

“You were thinking about doing it while we were sparring today, weren’t you?”

You face immediately betrays you even as you sputter, “I–I–I– I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about!” You pointedly focus on the can of soda in front of you on the table.

Ortega only smiles, leans on the kitchen counter, watching you. “Liar.”

You shrink down in your seat. “S–sorry.”

“It’s flattering,” Ortega’s smile is as smug as her voice, “but I don’t know if finding out how many different ways I can pin you to a mat is the best way to train.”

“Y–you can be very… distracting.” You take a long drink of soda to hide your face.

Ortega runs a hand through her hair, still wet from the shower. “Not, old, then?”

“W–well, no one said they’re mutually ex–exclusive.” You grin back at her. “Are you going to get dressed or just–just stay in that towel all day?”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She waggles her eyebrows and you don’t know whether to laugh or cover your face in embarrassment.

“Oh my god. Julia.”

“Maybe I should come over there and pin you again?” There’s an edge to her smile now that sets your heart racing.

“Th–that’s really n–n–not necessary.” You can’t stop yourself from grinning as you raise your hands defensively.

“You sure…?”

“Well…”

The silence stretches out between you, eyes locked. You crack first, laughing when Julia starts waggling her eyebrows again. She swoops around the counter, letting the towel fall to floor as she grabs you out of the chair before you get to your feet. Holding you under the arms, wrapped around the chest as she lifts you up. The world’s spinning a little too fast, and you’re laughing a little too much, to be able to see.

She carries you over to the couch, tossed on top with a soft ‘whump’ before crawling on top. “So much for mighty Adrestia,” Julia smirks, “Can’t even best a naked woman?”

Need to stop grinning – your face is starting to hurt. “W–who says this isn’t–isn’t part of my master plan?”

Julia sits back, “ _Your_ master plan?” She laughs.

You keep your arms drawn in, hands on your chest. Still can’t stop grinning. “Th–the one where I sed–sedu–seduced you into my anti-government cru–crusade.”

The smug grin on Julia’s face doesn’t lessen as she leans in over you, bare breasts brushing against your chest. “Who’s to say–” She whispers, voice hushed, low in your ear, in that way that draws goosebumps down the back of your neck. “–I didn’t seduce you into joining mine?”

You tilt your head against the arm rest of the couch, smile faltering for a second. For some reason you get the feeling she’s not just flirting. And then Julia bites your earlobe and any further thought on the matter is gone with the gasp of air you suck down.

Feel her hands run along your sides, searching for the hem of your shirt and you help them along. Grab the edge, pull up and over, turning the shirt inside-out arms over your head and Julia pulls it the rest of the way off.

And here you are again: orange lines carved into your skin, running under your bra, down over your hips. Tattoos, or something like. Other memories echoing through, and– it’s not fair. Damnit. Can already feel your throat tightening. Pressure in your eyes.

You grab Julia’s wrist before she can start tugging at your jeans. She looks up at you, takes in your face in second and stops. “You okay?”

“N–n–no.” You admit, “Sorry.” You squeak out.

Julia shakes her head, a sad smile on face that you know is meant to reassure but only makes it hurt more. “You’re fine. We don’t have to do anything.”

“I–I–I wish we could, but I–” You press your eyes shut hard enough to see stars, breath in, breath out. Feel Julia’s hand brush over your face, hair. “S–s–sometimes it’s fine, but then it–” You upon your eyes, blink out the water. It’s embarrassing. Wouldn’t even be able to pin down _which_ of your issues was the problem this time if she asked.

Julia shakes her head. “You’re fine. Do you… want to just, sit together for awhile?”

Nod your head, swallow the pain in your throat. “S–sure,” You manage to get out. “S–s–sounds good to me.”

She moves to get up, then hesitates, looks back down to you with hooded eyes. “Dressed or not?” The smirk lights up her whole face as you feel the heat rush through yours.

“Uh–” You blink rapidly. “Y–y–your choice?”

“Alright, in that case,” She shifts position, “Move over a bit there.” It takes a bit of maneuvering, the couch wasn’t meant for two grown women to lay side by side and so you end up slightly on top of here when it’s all said and done. Legs entwined with her’s, arm of her chest.

Julia pulls down the folded blanket from atop the back of the couch to cover the two of you while you manage to get the TV remote from the coffee table without needing to get up. Maybe this isn’t the comfiest position you’ve ever been in, but it’s hard to argue with the perks.


	12. "somebody's happy to see me" (Logan/Ariadne)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Logan belongs to [Kinpika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika)

Push her down in the bedsheets, hands running wild and she laughs. “You trying to fuck me or tickle me?”

Lean in until you butt noses, touch foreheads. Smile on your face, heartbeat a little too loud in your ears. “C–can’t it be both?”

Another laugh, as she scooches back, “Nope! No fucking way!”

“W–well then, help me out here.” Run your hands up under her shirt, she raises her arms to let you pull it off. Dip in for a quick kiss, miss and get her cheek instead. Pretend you meant to do that and turn it into a line down her neck. Find your hand dipping below the waistband of her jeans.

Watch her face as she relaxes into your touch, half closed eyes, parted lips. The rise and fall of her chest. And then– her smile curls into a smirk and she hooks her legs around your hips, pulls you forward against her; twist and the world tumbles around you. “Got you.”

“F–f–for now,” you admit, hair over your eyes half-blinding you in a haze of red.

She grabs your wrist when you try to withdraw your hand, “Did I say you could stop?”

“Uh–”

She pushes herself against your hand. “I did not.” She lets go of your hand once you start again, grinding into the touch of your fingers. Pushes your shirt up over your chest. “You good?”

“Y–y–yeah,” you manage to breath out, “You?”

“Hell yeah.” Drags her fingernails over your skin up to the base of your bra, tugs it down to free your breasts to the open air. “Somebody’s happy to see me.”

“Logan–” Any further complaint gets cut off by her hands on you, kneading you breasts, rolling a nipple between fingers. “F–f–fuck; Logan…”

She lets up, frowns and presses herself against your hand again, “Hey, don’t stop now.”

“Logan, I–”

She leans in towards you, an evil glint in her eye. “You were doing so * _well*_.” You can feel the heat in your face run straight up to your ears as she cackles.


End file.
